A Time To Heal
by dawn341
Summary: This is a Highlander Alternate Universe and is the 2nd in a series of 6 stand-alone stories. It was originally posted on the 7th Dimension website. The general premise of the A.U. is that Richie disappeared during the time Duncan MacLeod was on his island. He shows up 3 years later as a new immortal. In this story, Connor MacLeod is overwhelmed by a Dark Quickening


A Time To Heal by Dawn Cunningham

I wrote this story a long time ago. Since the Highlander fanfic archive has disappeared, I'm starting to post my stories on other sites. Disclaimers:

Most of the characters mentioned in the story belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

Warnings:

This story is an alternate universe. This is a sequel to my story 'A New Future'. I strongly suggest that you read that one first, but it isn't really necessary. Recap:

In the first story, Duncan had been unable to find Richie when he returned from the island, because of that, the entire future changed. The most important change was that Tessa didn't die. Also, Duncan has yet to meet Methos.

Three years later, Richie showed up at the antique store, a brand-new Immortal. Duncan agreed to train him, but had a hard time relating to his new student. As for Richie, the past three years had been difficult for him, leaving him unwilling to trust anyone. He did agree to follow Duncan's rules, which included staying out of trouble with the law. Broke, and unable to find a job, Richie moved into the antique store with Duncan and Tessa.

Richie eventually ended up working two jobs. One in a warehousing facility and one being a parking valet at a local restaurant. Slowly, his relationship with Duncan and Tessa has grown.

The first story ended on Richie's twenty-first birthday and this one picks up on the same night. One of his gifts had been hand-delivered by Connor MacLeod - although Richie doesn't know that yet. Much of that night is recapped in this story.

* HL * HL * HL * HL

A Time To Heal by Dawn Cunningham

Richie Ryan sighed and rolled over, reaching for the light switch. Despite the late hour, he had to check, just one more time. He sat up and glanced over at the dresser to be sure *it* was still there. It was, and it seemed to draw him out of bed. On silent feet, he padded across the room, and gazed down at the gift he'd just received that night. He picked it up and started examining it, only stopping when he saw himself in the mirror.

The light reflected off the sword in his hands, reminding him of what he had become. Immortal. He would never look any older than he did right now. Others would come seeking his head, and, if he was good enough, he would take theirs, instead. He could live for hundreds of years, or he could die tomorrow at the hands of another Immortal.

The whole night had been one surprise after another. Sure, he'd known Tessa had planned a special dinner to celebrate his twenty-first birthday, and he had suspected that she and Duncan would have a gift to give him. But nothing could have prepared him for what had really happened.

The couple had bought him more than one gift. He'd lost count while he opened them, but there must have been at least a dozen. If they had been given by anyone else, he probably would have considered it charity. But he had come to know the generosity of this couple who had taken him in. They hadn't bought him so many things because they felt that he needed them - though he did. Or because he couldn't afford to buy them himself - which he couldn't. Instead, he had a feeling that they were trying to allow him a sense of pride. To know he didn't need to be embarrassed because of his clothes.

But that hadn't been the end of it. Duncan had offered him a job running his new dojo. That had been a real shocker, especially since Richie had no experience. When the Scot had first talked about finding a manager to run the place, the young man had wanted to beg for a chance to do it. Instead, he had bitten back the words, not wanting to put Duncan in an awkward position.

When Duncan had told him to sit down, he'd been sure that the Scot had wanted him to move out, now that Richie was working full-time. Oddly enough, this new job offer would allow him to do just that. He'd have his own place over the dojo, and could be independent. Still, it had been a hard decision to make. It wasn't that he loved his job at the warehouse, or the valet job, either. He just wanted to make sure that Duncan wasn't offering him the job for the wrong reasons. And he wanted to be sure that he could do a good job. The last thing he wanted to do was to let his mentor down.

Richie shook his head, wondering when he'd changed so much. When had he come to care about what someone else thought of him? When had he stopped thinking of himself, first? How had Duncan - or for that matter, Tessa - come to mean so much to him? Was it because he needed the Scot to learn how to survive in this new world of Immortals? Somehow, he really didn't think that was the case.

He glanced back down at the sword in his hand, once again admiring the sleek lines, and the craftsmanship. He didn't know all that much about swords yet, but he had a feeling this was one of the finest ones around. Maybe not as fine as the katana that Duncan carried, but close to it. And it was his, now.

There was something about having a sword of his own that somehow made his immortality seem so real. Sure, he'd had the one that Duncan had given him to practice with, but it had never really felt like it was his. He couldn't wait until he had a chance to spar with this one.

Richie looked around the room. There just wasn't enough room in here. He set the sword down for a moment and dug his sweatpants out of a drawer. Quickly donning them, he retrieved the sword and quietly headed for Tessa's workshop. Once there, he took a deep breath, centered himself, and began a kata.

He concentrated on each step, each thrust, each parry, clearly picturing them in his mind. The sword's balance was perfect, and seemed to make every move effortless. Still, he was breathing heavily by the time he finished. As he lowered the sword, he heard a sound, and quickly spun around.

Duncan was standing in the kitchen doorway, clapping his hands. "That was very good, Richie," he said as he moved down the stairs. "How does the sword feel?"

Richie felt embarrassment at being caught flood through him. "It's great, Mac. Did I remember to thank you?" he asked, hesitantly. He honestly couldn't remember and didn't want to seem ungrateful.

The Scot smiled. "Just a few times. It's late - you should be in bed. Remember, you still have to go to work tomorrow." He paused for a moment. "Unless you've changed your mind. I could put you on the payroll right away."

Richie shook his head. "I'll quit when I've paid you back for my bike. That was our deal."

"All right. In that case, you'd better try to get some sleep."

Together, they headed for the bedroom area. Richie went into his own room, shutting the door behind him. He carefully placed the katana on his dresser, almost caressing the handle as he released it. He climbed back into bed, and shut off his light. Even though he could no longer see it, he turned so he was facing his dresser and his sword.

* HL * HL * HL

Richie waited impatiently for the red light to change, almost tempted to charge on through the intersection. Knowing his luck, he'd probably be spotted by a cop and pulled over. It hadn't been a very good day so far. His late night had made it hard to get up this morning, and he'd almost been late to work. It didn't help that he knew he really didn't *have* to go to work. He could just take Duncan up on his offer, and start working for him, now. But he'd managed to drag himself out of bed, somehow, and report to work.

When they'd come looking for people to work late, he'd volunteered. If he could get enough overtime pay, he'd be able to quit sooner. Between that and what little money he'd stashed in the bank, he might only have to work there another week. Especially if he could get some good tips this weekend on his valet job.

It wasn't that he was afraid of hard work. He'd had worse jobs than this, and would have stayed on until he'd found something better. However, some of the guys he worked with had been giving him a hard time. He'd been invited to go out drinking 'with the guys' on the first two Fridays that he worked. However, his second job had kept him from doing that. It probably wouldn't have been so bad, but one of the guys caught him looking at the help wanted ads during the lunch hour. They had decided that Richie thought the job was beneath him.

From that point on, the harassment had started. Of course, it was nothing he could prove. However, Richie had received all the dirtiest assignments. Most of the guys started shunning him over the lunch hour, doing their best to sit as far away from him as possible. He'd even found his bike with two flat tires one night. Thankfully, the friend he'd bought the bike from had been willing to bring out some spares until he could get the tires fixed.

Today, he'd almost come to blows with one of them. The guy had accidentally dropped a crate, causing it to break open and damage the equipment inside, then blamed Richie for it. While not responsible for the full cost of the damage, your pay was docked when something like that happened. Given a choice of believing a newcomer versus believing a ten-year veteran on the job, the supervisor had chosen the latter.

Richie had just been about to quit when one of the other relative newcomers to the business had spoken up for him. The Immortal wasn't quite sure why the guy had - they weren't friends by any means. After all, he'd just set himself up for the same kind of grief that Richie was already receiving. It wasn't until after work that he found out the other man was also quitting soon. Still, it had been nice to have someone actually speak up for him when he was wrongly accused. It was a new experience for the young Immortal.

Tessa had been anxiously waiting for him when he got home. She'd told him to hurry and shower, then had his dinner waiting for him when he'd emerged from his room. Duncan had apparently decided to go to the warehouse ahead of Richie, for some reason that Tessa wouldn't divulge. He knew something was up, but couldn't figure out what was going on.

The light finally changed, and Richie quickly moved down the street. In a few minutes he was pulling up in front of the warehouse. Once he shut off his bike, he could hear the distinctive sounds of swords clashing. For a brief moment, he argued with himself over what to do. Duncan had told him that he couldn't interfere when two other Immortals were fighting. Still, he couldn't walk away without knowing if his mentor was safe. If the other Immortal did somehow manage to take Duncan's head, then Richie vowed to avenge his death in any way he could.

Drawing his sword, he headed for the open doorway. A sense of deja vu struck him when he saw the two combatants. It was like a repeat from three years earlier as he watched the two Highlanders spar. This time, though, he understood what they were doing, and he carefully watched each of their moves. The mock battle continued for a few more minutes before the two Immortals finally backed away from each other.

Duncan turned towards the young man. "Richie, you're finally here. I want you to meet Connor. Connor, this is Richie."

Somewhat hesitantly, Richie went over and shook the older Scot's hand. Connor was an unknown, and he didn't quite know whether he trusted him or not. Still, he couldn't believe his teacher would set him up, either.

"You here visiting?" Richie asked cautiously.

Connor nodded. "I had a very special package to deliver, and decided to stay and visit for a few days."

"I suppose you usually stay at the apartment when you're here," Richie said, trying to hide his scowl. He'd probably have to give up his room to the visiting Immortal.

"Since this is only the second time he's visited here," Duncan interrupted, "there is no 'usual' about it. However, this time he's checked into a hotel."

Pleased by that information, Richie remembered the other comment that Connor had made. "So, what kind of package were you delivering?" He looked over at his teacher. "Something for the store?" That would make sense. Antiques tended to be very expensive.

"No, something for you," Connor replied with a small smile.

"Oh?" Richie glanced back and forth between the two Scots.

"Connor was responsible for finding the sword for you and getting it here in time for your birthday," Duncan explained.

Richie looked down at the sword in his hand, some of the joy he'd felt at receiving it diminishing. How foolish of him to think Duncan went to any great lengths to pick out a sword for his student. He'd probably told Connor to pick up 'something' for Richie.

"I guess I thanked the wrong person last night," Richie said, trying to keep his disappointment from showing. "I thought Mac had gotten the sword for me, but I guess I was wrong. Thanks, Connor."

Both Highlanders frowned. "The sword was Duncan's gift," Connor explained. "All I did was find it for him."

Richie shrugged and turned away, missing the glances the two Scots gave each other. The young man moved over to a nearby crate and set down his sword so he could remove his jacket. Duncan followed him, and placed a hand on his arm.

"Richie, just because Connor was the one who found the sword doesn't mean it's not my gift."

"Yeah, but it's not the same." Richie debated for a moment whether he should say any more, then decided to try to make his teacher understand his feelings. "I thought you picked the sword specifically for me. Now, I find out that you didn't have anything to do with it. You may have paid for it, but it's not the same."

Duncan sighed and scrubbed at his face for a moment. "Okay, Rich, remember a few weeks ago? You were in the shop talking to me when Mr. Gilroy came in looking for an anniversary gift for his wife."

Richie nodded, not understanding where Duncan was going with his story.

"He knew exactly what he wanted for her - a Paul Revere tea set. I made some phone calls and found one for him. Does that mean it wasn't his gift to his wife? After all, I was the one found it."

"No, but this isn't the same thing."

"Yes, it is. I told Connor exactly what I wanted. I even gave him a suggestion on where to find it. If he'd come back with something I wasn't pleased with, I wouldn't have given it to you. If you don't think that makes it a special gift from me, then I'll take the sword back and find another one for you - by myself this time."

Richie stared down at the sword for several long moments. "You told Connor what you wanted?"

"I told him I wanted a katana with a Matsamuni blade, and even gave him the size and weight to look for."

The young man studied Duncan's face, looking for any signs of a con job. Finding none, he smiled. "I'm sorry, Mac. You're right. I love the sword, and I don't want another one."

Duncan patted him on the shoulder. "Good. Now, I want you to warm up, then you're going to spar with Connor."

Richie glanced over at the other Immortal, and barely refrained from gulping. "Uh... Can't I just spar with you like we usually do?"

Duncan laughed. "He won't hurt you, Richie. At least nothing that won't heal. It's good for you to practice with others. Besides, I can watch you better this way so I can figure out what areas we need to work on."

Richie looked over at Connor again, and this time the other Immortal gave him a wicked grin. He frantically tried to come up with some excuse that Duncan would believe, but his mind refused to cooperate. With a sigh, and a deep feeling of misgiving, he picked up his sword and moved to an open area of the warehouse. Thinking hard, he came up with the longest kata he knew, and started it - anything to delay the sparring session.

Duncan stopped him after ten minutes. "That's enough, Richie. Time to do some sparring."

Richie took a deep breath and moved into position. Connor bowed to him, and he returned the gesture before taking up a defensive position. The Scot attacked almost immediately, but he was ready for him. He parried the first few blows successfully, and felt his confidence rise.

Too soon. Connor's sword slipped past his defenses and nicked his arm - just enough to make the young man aware he'd been touched.

"Tag. You're it," Connor said with a grin, as he backed off a little.

More determined, Richie prepared for the next attack. This time he was able to parry all the blows.

"Don't just defend," Duncan coached from the sidelines. "Attack!"

Richie wasn't too sure about that advice - the last thing he wanted was a ticked off Immortal coming after him - but if that was what his teacher wanted... So, he attacked.

Their mock battle raged back and forth, each of them showing nicks and small cuts that were inevitable in this kind of swordplay. Richie managed to hold his own, but he knew it was only because Connor let him. If this had been a real battle, he'd have been a goner during the first few minutes of the fight.

"That's enough." Duncan brought their battle to an end, and both Immortals backed off, lowering their swords.

Connor spoke first. "You'll do, lad." He moved closer and slapped the young man's back. "You'll do."

"Thanks, Connor." Richie beamed at the older Scot.

"Don't get a swollen head," Duncan warned. "You still need a lot of practice, and we might as well get started now. We have a lot of area to cover."

Richie glanced over at Connor. "He always been like this?"

Connor nodded solemnly. "Ever since I've known him."

"And you still come to visit him?"

Connor shrugged. "What can I say? I feel responsible - he was my student after all. I just don't know where I went wrong. I keep trying to get him to lighten up, but nothing ever seems to work."

Duncan glared at the other two. "Are you two funny guys done? This is supposed to be a training session."

"I suppose we should go along with him," Richie suggested. "Otherwise, we'll be here all night."

The two Immortals moved into position based on Duncan's instructions. For the next hour, Richie worked on various defensive and offensive tactics. By the time they were done, he felt like he'd learned a lot.

They returned to the antique store, where they showered, then met back in the living room. Tessa had been busy while they were gone and had prepared sandwiches, and a platter filled with raw vegetables, sliced fruits, and cheeses.

The three Immortals descended on the food like a swarm of locusts. Duncan went to the refrigerator and pulled out two beers before looking over his shoulder. "You want a beer, Richie?" he asked.

The young Immortal was startled by the question. Duncan had never offered him a drink before - except for wine during meals. Then he realized that he was twenty-one, now. He was finally old enough to drink legally. "Sure, Mac," he called back.

Duncan brought over the beer and passed the bottles out. Tessa already had a glass of wine and she brought it with her when she joined them. "How was your workout?" she asked Richie.

The young man shrugged. "Ask the experts."

Tessa turned expectant eyes to the two Scots, and Richie followed her move.

"Well..." Connor paused for a moment in an obvious tease. "The lad has learned a lot..." He shot a mischievous look at his clansman. "Despite the fact that Duncan is teaching him."

"And I suppose you could have done better," Duncan retorted.

"Of course I could. Richie, if you ever want a *good* teacher, give me a call."

Duncan gave Connor a disbelieving look and made a rude noise. "He's got a *good* teacher, already."

"Maybe we should let the lad decide," Connor suggested.

Richie suddenly found himself at the center of everyone's attention. "Uh... thanks, Connor, but I started out with Mac, so I guess I'll finish with him." A smug look crossed Duncan's face, and Richie couldn't resist adding, "I'll keep your offer in mind, though."

Duncan's face fell slightly, but Connor just laughed. "Smart lad. You do that. When he's taught you what little he can, then you can come to me."

Richie hoped he was serious. "Thanks, Connor." From what he'd seen, the two Scots were pretty evenly matched, and he doubted that Connor could teach him much more than Duncan. Still, it never hurt to keep your options open.

Duncan drained his bottle of beer and stood up. "Anyone want another?" he asked, waving around the empty bottle.

Connor agreed, but Richie turned him down, knowing he had to get up early the next morning to work. "No, thanks, Mac. In fact, I should probably head off to bed. That alarm goes off awfully early in the morning." He stood up. "How long will you be here, Connor?" He wondered if he'd have the chance to spar with the other Immortal again.

The Scot shrugged. "I'm in no rush. I'll be here a few more days, at least. We'll spar again before I leave."

"That's great," Richie said. "Goodnight, everyone."

* HL * HL * HL

Tessa decided to call it a night about thirty minutes after Richie, leaving the two Highlanders alone in the living room. They continued talking for a while, catching up on news of other Immortals. Finally, Connor stood up.

"Time to head back to my hotel," he announced.

Duncan walked him out to his rental car. Now that there was no chance of his student overhearing, he asked the question that had been plaguing him all night. "So, what do you think of Richie?"

Connor stared up into the night sky for a long moment. "I see what you mean about him needing special handling. Still, he shows great promise. He definitely has the courage he will need. However, you should make sure he doesn't become too dependent on you."

"I know, but he's not had a good start in life. He doesn't trust easily - I think he's been hurt too many times in his life."

"Physically?" Connor asked.

"Maybe. Emotional and mental abuse, definitely. I got the impression that he's been told he's no good so many times that he's come to believe it. Tessa and I are trying to change that."

"From what you've told me, you've already done that."

Duncan nodded. "We've had a good start. I've already put plans in motion to give him some independence, but it will take a couple of months before the place is ready for him."

"A couple more months living with you and Tessa could make a big difference," Connor said. "It sounds like you have everything under control."

"Thanks, Connor." Duncan stared down at the ground for a moment. "If anything should happen to me..."

"I'll take over his training," Connor said, clasping Duncan's shoulder.

Duncan nodded. "So, what are your plans for the next few days? We won't be able to use the warehouse for training anymore. I've sold the place and they take possession tomorrow."

He shrugged. "Well, I might just look around the area. It's been a while since I've spent any time around here."

"You're welcome to the cabin if you want to go up there," Duncan offered. "Or you can just hang around here."

"I'll keep you posted." Connor climbed into his car and drove off.

* HL * HL * HL

Richie roared into the lot at work the next morning, trying to avoid being late. He quickly parked his bike, and hurried towards the door. He could see four men standing around outside the building, but didn't really pay much attention until one of them stepped into his path.

"Hey, punk! I think you need to find a new job," the man growled.

Richie recognized the man immediately. It was Ben Vickers - the man who had falsely accused him yesterday.

"Get out of my way, Vickers. You may want to be late, but I don't." Richie tried to move around the man who was four inches taller and sixty pounds heavier than he was.

Vickers grabbed his arm to stop him. "You're not wanted here, Ryan. You should've kept your mouth shut yesterday. The new guys are always blamed for broken stuff. Half the time, they can get away with it."

"I wasn't going to take the heat for you," Richie spat back, managing to twist out of the other man's grip. The other three men moved to block his way. "What? Four against one? I suppose you think that's fair?"

"I don't need their help to handle you, punk!" Vickers said, his face turning red from anger. He grabbed Richie's arm and spun him back around. He swung his other hand straight at the young Immortal's face.

Richie managed to duck enough to keep the fist from hitting him in the eye. Instead, it hit high on his cheekbone, but with enough force to send him reeling back. Vickers landed another blow to the young man's stomach before Duncan's training kicked in. The third blow was deflected by Richie's arm, and he threw his first punch. It landed on the other man's chin.

Enraged, Vickers charged Richie and the two tumbled to the ground where they rolled back and forth, pummeling each other. The young Immortal knew he was at a disadvantage because of the other's weight. He couldn't get out from underneath the man, so he concentrated on trying to place his blows where they could do the most damage.

Suddenly, hands lifted Vickers to his feet, and Richie scrambled to his. Other hands grabbed his arms from behind and held him tight.

"Let me go!" Richie almost screamed, struggling in their grasp.

"That's enough! The fight's over." The day shift manager, Roger Putnam, stepped between the two men, placing one hand on each of their chests. "If you want to continue this, take it somewhere else! Now, who started this?"

"He did!" Richie and Vickers burst out together.

Putnam looked around. "Anyone else see what happened?"

One of the other three men who'd been waiting with Vickers stepped up. "Yeah, Ryan started it. He's got a major attitude problem." The other two men nodded agreement.

"All right. Ryan, you're fired."

"What? Why am I fired?" Richie burst out. "I didn't start the fight. I was just defending myself! You can't believe them - they're friends of Vickers."

"I don't have much choice unless someone else wants to take your side." The manager looked around at the other men. No one spoke up. "I guess that covers it."

"Fine! I don't need this stupid job, anyway. Just give me my pay, and I'll be out of here."

"Come inside, and I'll get it for you. The rest of you get to work."

The crowd dispersed quickly, only Vickers lingering long enough to throw a smug look at Richie.

Putnam sighed. "To be quite honest, Richie, I don't really believe you started the fight, but I don't really have any choice in the matter when Vickers has someone to backup his story. I also think this is the best thing for you. If you don't leave now, Vickers will try something else, and the next time he might really hurt you."

"I can handle him." Even knowing Putnam believed him wasn't enough to cool down the young Immortal's anger. He was still being fired because of that jerk, Vickers.

"Let it go, Richie. Now, let's go to my office and I'll get your last check." Putnam led the way to the office.

Fifteen minutes later, Richie was back on his bike, trying to decide what to do. He didn't know if he was ready to face Duncan and Tessa yet. He drove around aimlessly for a while, but eventually headed home. Delaying tactics wouldn't solve anything.

He parked his bike in the alley behind the store, and went inside. Duncan appeared almost immediately from the antique store. There were some definite disadvantages to being Immortal. He couldn't sneak in because the Scot would always sense him.

"What are you doing home?" Duncan asked. His eyes quickly scanned the young man and he moved closer. "What happened?"

"I got into a fight at work," Richie said. "I also got fired, but it wasn't my fault!" The words just seemed to tumble out as the young man explained what had happened.

Duncan didn't say anything until Richie had finished his spiel. "I guess we'll have to work on how to handle a heavier opponent," he finally said with a grin. "There's a definite trick to it."

Richie could only stare at the Highlander in disbelief. "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"What else was I supposed to say?"

"Oh, like I really screwed up, or something like that."

"But it wasn't your fault. In fact, you were standing up for what was right. Why would I think you'd screwed up?"

Richie couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer for that. Once again, Duncan had acted in a totally different way from anyone else he'd ever known. How many times had he been called stupid or worse when something had gone wrong? Whether it had been his fault or not never seemed to make any difference.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up? You look like you've been in a fight, or something," Duncan said, grinning widely. "Then you can come into the office and I'll start showing you how to use a computer."

"Sure, Mac." Richie headed for his room.

* HL * HL * HL

By the middle of the afternoon, Richie was tired of the computer. While some of what Duncan had shown him made sense, a lot of it was too confusing. And what wasn't confusing was downright boring. He'd been keying in invoices since lunchtime, but had finally finished. The Scot had left about an hour earlier to go sign the closing papers on the old warehouse. Tessa was currently in her workshop, although she always returned to the store when a customer came in.

Richie leaned back in the chair and stretched. He supposed he should make a decision about his valet job. A part of him wanted to keep the job - if only to show Duncan and Tessa that he could hold on to a job on his own. The other part of him hated working every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night. He see-sawed back and forth until he finally decided to keep the job for a while. It would give him a chance to squirrel some money away. While Christmas was a long ways away, he wanted to be sure he had enough to buy gifts for Duncan and Tessa.

Suddenly, he felt the touch of another Immortal. Richie quickly glanced at his watch. It could be Duncan, but what if it wasn't? He looked over his shoulder, through the open door into Tessa's workshop. His coat was hanging on a hook in there, the sword carefully tucked inside. He could easily get to it if there was a need.

The door to the antique store opened and Connor came inside. For some reason, the Scot locked the door, and put out the closed sign. Richie had just been about to relax, but those actions made him wonder if something was wrong. Maybe something had happened to Duncan.

"Hey, Connor," he said as he stood up. "What's going on?" There was something about the Highlander that was different, but he really couldn't put his finger on what it was.

The Scot didn't reply, just slowly walked into the office, looking around like he'd never seen the place before. "Where's Duncan?" he finally asked.

"He had to go out, but he should be back sometime soon."

"Then I'll guess you'll have to do." Connor motioned for Richie to proceed him into Tessa's workshop, then followed. He carefully shut the door behind him, closing off the shop area.

Tessa was sitting on a stool in front of a sketch pad, but she stood up when they came into her workshop. "Connor, what a pleasant surprise. Duncan didn't tell me you were coming over this afternoon."

"I don't tell him everything," Connor replied, moving closer to her. His arm suddenly shot out, and grabbed Tessa by the back of the neck. "Like I've never told him how much I want you." He pulled her closer, despite her struggles, and ravaged her mouth with a brutal kiss.

For a moment, Richie couldn't believe what he was seeing. Then he realized he had to do something. He grabbed Connor's arm and pulled at it. "Leave her alone," he ordered.

Connor shrugged him off, but at least he stopped kissing Tessa.

She wasted no time slapping the Highlander's face. "How dare you?" she snarled, as she scrubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Come on, admit it. You want me, too," Connor said. "Why don't we go someplace more private?"

"I think you should leave," Richie said, stepping between the two.

"No, I think *you* should leave," Connor replied, "before I really get mad." He shoved Richie aside, sending him sprawling on the floor, and grabbed Tessa again.

"Leave me alone!" Tessa said, slapping him again.

Connor reacted instantly, slapping her back hard enough to send her reeling. Only his hold on her arm kept her from falling to the ground. He pulled her close again, pulling her hair back to expose her throat before he started nibbling under her ear. "We're going to have some fun."

Richie knew he had to do something. He didn't know why Connor was acting this way. Either Duncan was completely fooled about his former teacher, or else this was his evil twin. The young Immortal climbed to his feet and headed for his coat. He withdrew his sword, then approached the older Immortal.

"Let her go," he said, using his deadliest tone, and poked at Connor with his sword.

Connor looked over his shoulder and laughed. "So, the little pup has sharp teeth. I guess I'll have to take care of you first. Don't go anywhere, baby," he ordered as he shoved Tessa to the floor, then pulled out his sword.

Richie knew he was in deep trouble. There was no way he could beat Connor. Last night had proven that. All he could do was stall for enough time to let Tessa get away. "Get out of here, Tessa," he ordered as he saw her struggle to her feet.

Connor attacked, his sword slashing across the young man's chest. Richie gasped at the sharp pain, and raised his left hand to the wound.

"Richie!" Tessa cried out.

"Go, Tessa!" Richie screamed as he managed to block the next attack. He felt an overwhelming sense of relief when he saw her stumble toward the back door. He knew he was about to die, but at least Tessa was safe.

Another stroke of Connor's sword slipped past his defense and slashed at his thigh. Richie struggled to stay upright and to ignore the pain. Time after time, the sword worked its way through his defenses and opened a new wound on the young man's body. He felt as if he was a mouse and the Scot was a cat playing with him. And never once did the smile leave his face. Finally, in a sudden move, Connor disarmed Richie and sent his sword clattering across the floor beyond reach. Another quick slash sliced open his abdomen.

This time the pain was too much, and Richie sank to his knees, holding his stomach. Connor walked around him, trailing his sword around the young Immortal's neck.

"Why?" Richie forced out. "Just tell me why!" He couldn't understand what was happening.

Connor shrugged. "Why not?" he replied.

Suddenly, Richie felt another Immortal. For a moment, he thought he was safe, then he remembered his teacher's words. It was against the rules to interfere in a battle between two Immortals. Duncan wouldn't do anything to help him. Connor swung his sword up, and Richie closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the blade heading for his neck.

The back door burst open and Richie's eyes followed suit. Duncan stalked into the room, his katana out. "What's going on here? Connor?"

"I guess you'll have to wait, pup," Connor said, before impaling the young Immortal. After what seemed like an eternity, the Scot yanked out his katana.

Richie collapsed to the floor, unable to believe the pain. He struggled to breathe, but he couldn't seem to do it. He knew he was dying, and could only hope this immortality thing really did work. The last thing he saw before he died was the two Scots starting to fight.

* HL * HL * HL

Duncan was pleased with how fast he'd gotten out of his lawyer's office. Everyone had been prepared, and there had been nothing to delay the final closing on his warehouse. The place no longer belonged to him, and he had a check which he'd already deposited in the bank. All he had to do was wait until he could close on the dojo. His lawyer was already trying to speed up that process.

As he pulled into the alley, he saw Tessa huddled behind her car. He slammed on the brakes and jumped out of his T-bird. "Tessa? What's wrong?"

She almost jumped into his arms, and he closed them tightly around her. "Duncan, you have to do something! He's going to kill Richie!"

"Who?" A sinking sensation filled him. While he could have taken his student's place if he was challenged, a teacher wasn't supposed to interfere if the fight had already started. It didn't help to know his student wasn't ready to take on a seasoned fighter. Still, maybe his presence would be enough to keep the other Immortal from taking Richie's head. A Quickening would weaken an Immortal, and most of them would hesitate if they knew another was waiting to challenge them.

"Connor!"

Duncan pulled back and stared at her. "Connor? Are you sure?" Then he noticed her swollen lips, and tear-streaked cheeks, one of which was reddened like she had been slapped. "Who did this?" Was that why Connor was fighting Richie? Did the young Immortal hurt Tessa?

"Connor did this. You have to stop him. It's like he's gone crazy. If it hadn't been for Richie..." Tessa shuddered.

Duncan didn't want to believe her, but he didn't know what else to do. "Get in the T-bird and go over to St. Joseph's. You'll be safe there. If I don't come for you, it may not be safe for you to come home."

"Oh, Duncan," Tessa almost sobbed.

He gave her a quick hug, and a kiss before pushing her toward his car. Then he drew his katana and headed for the back door. He could feel the Immortals inside. His anger seemed to surge up within him and he kicked open the door, hearing it bang against the wall.

At first, he couldn't believe his eyes. Richie was on his knees and Connor was just about to chop off his head. He stalked into the room, and demanded, "What's going on here? Connor?"

"I guess you'll have to wait, pup," Connor said before impaling the young Immortal. A moment later, he yanked out the katana and Richie collapsed on the floor.

"Connor? What's going on? Why are you doing this?" Duncan almost pleaded with his clansman.

"How about 'there can be only one'?" Connor sneered, before attacking.

Duncan knew he was in for the fight of his life. Even though he and Connor had sparred before, they had never pulled out all the stops in those mock battles. This was totally different. Connor was not holding back, at all. The older Immortal alternated between arm-jarring blows and lightning-fast slashes.

It was all Duncan could do to keep up his defense. Hoping that Connor would tire quickly, the younger Scot bided his time. Connor seemed to realize what he was doing almost immediately, and he slowed down, too. Duncan started pressing his attack, knowing he didn't have much choice.

The battle waged back and forth, each Immortal attacking and defending. By this time, each of them were suffering from wounds inflicted by the other. Duncan was starting to tire, and wondered how Connor was still able to keep going.

Duncan finally saw his chance and with a quick move, embedded his sword deep in Connor's stomach. At first, he wasn't sure if that had been enough, but the other man finally dropped his sword and slid to his knees. Duncan yanked out his sword, giving it a twist to ensure Connor's death. A moment later, his former teacher died.

Duncan stared down at his former teacher, kinsman, and friend. He didn't want to take Connor's head, but what else could he do? He looked around the workshop and spotted some rope. He hurried over to get it, and a moment later he used it to truss Connor up tightly. He would try to get some answers first.

Richie gasped in a big breath, and moaned. Before Duncan could get to his side, he bolted upright and looked around wildly.

"Take it easy, Richie. You're going to be fine."

"He tried to kill me!" Richie declared, a touch of hysteria in his voice. He looked around again, and spotted the body on the floor. "Did you take his head?"

"No."

"What?" Richie almost screamed. "He tried to kill me! He hurt Tessa! He was going to rape her! And you let him live? Why?"

"Richie, I don't know why he did those things. Maybe he can be helped. I don't know, but I have to try. He's not going anywhere, for now."

A gasping breath echoed through the room and, a moment later, Connor started thrashing around. Duncan helped Richie to his feet, and they walked over to the older Immortal.

"Let me go!" Connor demanded, his face distorted in anger.

"Not until we figure out what happened to you," Duncan said.

"Nothing happened to me! When I get out of here, I'm going to chop both of you up into little pieces," Connor threatened. "You'll pay for this."

Duncan turned away, pulling Richie along with him. "Go get cleaned up, Richie," he ordered. "Then I want you to go over to St. Joseph's and tell Tessa it's safe to come home."

"All right, Mac." Richie headed for his room and took a quick shower. Ten minutes later, he climbed on his bike and headed for the church. He parked his motorcycle next to the T-bird and went inside.

Tessa was sitting in the back of the church, and she jumped up when she saw the young man. "Richie!" She hurried over and hugged him tightly. "Thank goodness you are all right. Where is Duncan? Is he all right?"

"He's fine, Tessa. He beat Connor, and sent me over to tell you it's all right for you to come home now."

"Oh, poor Duncan. It must have been so hard for him to kill Connor."

"Connor's still alive," Richie said, disgust still evident in his voice.

"He let him go?" Tessa started shivering. "What if he comes back?"

Richie hugged her, rubbing her back lightly. "Mac didn't let him go. He's tied up while Mac tries to figure out how to help him. We won't let him hurt you again."

Tessa sighed and Richie felt her relax slightly. "I haven't even thanked you for saving me the first time, Richie. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there this afternoon."

"I guess it's a good thing I got fired this morning," Richie quipped. "Go figure."

His ploy worked when Tessa giggled for a moment. "Yes, go figure. Thank you, Richie."

"You're welcome. Besides, Mac would have killed me if I'd let Connor hurt you."

Tessa giggled again. "We can't have that." She patted his cheek lightly. "Let's go home."

Richie escorted her to the car and followed her home, making sure she was never out of sight. Once they were back at the apartment, he stopped her before she went inside.

"Let me check it out first, Tessa. Wait here." Richie cautiously opened the back door and peered inside. All evidence of the battles that had waged there earlier had been cleaned up, and there was no sight of Duncan or Connor.

Richie pulled his sword and slowly headed for the kitchen. A moment later, he spotted Duncan through the windows and heaved a sigh of relief. "What did you do with Connor?" he asked the Scot when he came out to the workshop.

"He's back in the exercise room. Where's Tessa?"

"I had her wait outside. I wanted to make sure everything was all right before I let her come in. I'll go get her." Richie hurried back to the door and waved to Tessa.

The Frenchwoman almost ran into Duncan's arms, and they held each other tightly. Richie watched the couple for a moment before leaving them alone. They didn't need a third wheel right now.

* HL * HL * HL

Richie went into the kitchen and fetched a bottle of beer. Then he went to the living room and sat down. After a few moments, he got back up and went over to the fireplace and started a fire. He returned to his chair, and stared into the flickering flames, trying to banish the images that kept flashing through his mind.

This was the second time he'd cheated death. The first had been his mortal death - only his immortality had saved him then. Today, it had been Duncan who had saved him. He wondered if he would be as lucky the third time around.

Tessa and Duncan eventually joined him. The Scot returned to the kitchen long enough to wrap some ice in a towel, then brought it over to Tessa, carefully placing it on her cheek. He sat down beside her, and took her into his arms again.

It was Tessa who asked the question that was plaguing Richie. "Why did he do it, Duncan? It didn't even seem like Connor."

"I'm not sure - he's definitely not talking. I do have an idea, though." Duncan stared into the distance for a moment, before shaking his head. "I thought it was just a myth."

"What?"

"A Dark Quickening."

"A what?" Richie asked, sitting up straighter and staring at his teacher. He hadn't heard about that kind of Quickening.

"A Dark Quickening. When we take another Immortal's head, we take all his energy, his power, his strength." Duncan paused for a moment. "In a Dark Quickening, if you take in too much evil, you overload."

"You become evil yourself?" Richie asked, not wanting to believe it. "How much is too much?"

"No one knows. Like I said, I always thought it was a myth, but *something* changed him."

"Mac, he tried to kill us!" Richie protested. "Does it matter how he got to be that way?"

"It matters to me," Duncan replied, sadly.

Richie stared into the flames, trying to decide what to say. Tessa solved his dilemma.

"How do you fix a Dark Quickening?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I have to find a way. I have a friend, Jim Coltec, who may be able to help. He's a Hayoka."

"A what?" Richie chimed in again.

"Hayoka - a medicine man. Or maybe a holy man is a better term. It was his job to protect his tribe from evil by absorbing it before it got to them. Unfortunately, he couldn't protect his tribe from famine, or disease, or the white man. They all died - only he survived. Since then, he's become the Hayoka for the world."

"Do you think he can help Connor?" Tessa asked.

"I hope so. He has a spiritual power that connects him to people and things... I've never seen anything like it."

"You make it sound like he does magic," Richie said.

"I don't know what to call it. I only know that he helped me during one of my darkest times." Duncan sighed. "It was back in... 1872, I think. I had been living with a Lakota Indian tribe for about three years. I was about to marry Little Deer and adopt her son, and I was at peace with myself for the first time in a long time. Then Kern came, and the soldiers. They slaughtered everyone in the camp - sparing no one. I was consumed with revenge and hatred that seemed to grow with time as I tried to track down the bastard. Hatred was all I had left. I didn't care what it took, or who I hurt. I just wanted to find Kern and take his head."

Tessa hugged Duncan tightly. "What happened?"

"Coltec happened. He took away my hatred, my pain. Without his help, I wouldn't be the person I am today. You wouldn't have liked the person I was, Tessa."

"Then I guess I owe this Hayoka a big thanks," she said, caressing his cheek, and smiling.

"I only hope he can do the same for Connor. He's going to meet me at the island tomorrow." "Island? What island?" Richie asked.

"It's a few hours from here. I built a cabin on it after Coltec helped me. It's holy ground - maybe that will help, too. As soon as I get everything ready, I'm going to head there."

"I'll go with you," Richie blurted out. He wasn't quite sure where those words had come from, but Duncan seemed pleased by the offer.

"Thanks, Richie. I could use the help."

"I'll go, too," Tessa said.

"No, I don't think so, Tessa. If something goes wrong, I don't want you anywhere near. It's holy ground so he won't be able to hurt us, but he could hurt you. In fact, I think you should go stay somewhere else. Maybe Seattle - someplace where there's lots of people around."

"But, Duncan," Tessa protested.

"Please? For me? It will help to know you're safe. Besides, just think of all the shopping you could do." Duncan grinned at her.

Tessa glared back. "Very well, but I'm not happy about it. I'll go tomorrow."

"Leave a message on the answering machine when you check into a hotel. That way I'll know where to find you when it's over. I wish the cell phone would work on the island!" Duncan's frustration showed clearly on his face.

"We will manage," Tessa soothed him.

"I'd also like you to call Natalie or one of your other friends, and see if you can spend the night with one of them. I don't think you should be alone tonight." He handed her the cordless phone.

The conversation didn't last long. "Natalie says it's not a problem. I'm going to pack, then head over there right away. She said I could stay with her for a few days, so I won't go to Seattle. Do you want me to pack for you, too?"

"No, I can do it. In fact, I'll pack for both of us. You can tell me what you want, but I'll do all the work. I want you to keep that ice on your cheek for a little bit longer. Richie, just bring a few changes of clothes - something warm. It's going to be colder on the island than it is here."

"Okay." Richie stood up and went into his bedroom, trying to figure out what clothes he should take. He didn't have much choice, but he opened his closet to check out his options. One outfit reminded him of something else, and he hurried back to the living room.

Duncan and Tessa were in the kitchen, putting fresh ice in a towel. "What's wrong, Richie?" he asked.

"I just remembered! I'm supposed to work tonight. How long are we going to be gone?"

"I don't know. You'd better let them know you won't be in all weekend," Duncan said. "Great. This is a new record for me - being fired from two jobs in the same day."

"Maybe they won't fire you," Tessa suggested. "Just tell them a family emergency came up." She paused, then said, almost defiantly, "after all, it's the truth."

Richie didn't know how to respond to that, but the idea that he was part of this family made him feel good. Instead, he went to the phone and placed the call. He couldn't believe it when the head valet accepted his story and told him to take as much time as he needed.

The young Immortal returned to the living room. "Guess I'm not going to set that record after all. I didn't get fired."

"That's good, Richie," Tessa said. "Now, I suggest we all get packed."

* HL * HL * HL

Duncan and Richie stood side-by-side, watching Tessa drive away. Neither said a word until the car was no longer in sight. They'd already put their bags, as well as food supplies, in the T-bird.

The Scot broke the silence first. He placed an arm around Richie's shoulders. "Let's get something to eat. By the time we're done, it should be dark enough to leave." He steered the younger man inside.

Richie made sandwiches while Duncan warmed up some soup. They ate in silence, both deep within their own thoughts. The younger Immortal wasn't really hungry, and almost left his meal untouched. However, he had no idea when they'd get a chance to eat again, so he forced himself to clear his plate and finish the soup.

Duncan finally sighed and pushed back his chair. He started clearing the table and Richie helped him. It didn't take long before the kitchen was in its normal pristine condition.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Duncan suddenly blurted out. "I can manage on my own."

Richie shook his head. "I *want* to help. I just can't forget how he toyed with me! I always imagined a battle between two Immortals would be a grim, deadly struggle, but I swear he grinned all the time we were fighting! He could have easily killed or disarmed me during the first part of the fight, so why didn't he?"

Duncan sighed again. "Every fight is different. Sometimes, it's exactly as you imagined - grim and serious. At other times, your opponent may taunt you in hopes of making you lose your temper and your control. But there are some who enjoy hurting their opponents. It makes them feel more powerful, and they want it to last as long as possible. You saw Connor fight once before - how did he act then?"

Richie thought back to that night, over three years before. "He was very serious then, although they both taunted each other."

"That's the kind of fighter Connor has always been. That's why I'm convinced that something happened to him between last night and this afternoon to change him. Just try to remember him as he was last night."

"I'll try, Mac. So, how are we going to do this? If we take him in the car with us, he might try to attract attention."

Duncan pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt. "I'm going to kill him, then we'll put him in the trunk. He won't revive as long as the knife is in his heart. Get that tarp from the workshop. We'll wrap him up in that. It will make it easier to hide him."

Richie retrieved the tarp, then headed for the exercise room. Duncan had already killed Connor, and the younger Scot looked slightly pale. The two of them quickly untied the older Scot from the weight bench before placing him on the spread-out tarp. They left the rope around Connor's body in case he should somehow manage to recover. As a final precaution, Duncan placed more rope around the body after they wrapped Connor up.

"That should do it," Duncan said. With Richie's help, he hoisted the limp body and carried it out to the car. He carefully arranged Connor in the trunk so that there should be no way the knife could work loose, then slammed the trunk lid.

Richie went back inside and quickly checked the doors and windows, making sure everything was secure. His final step was to turn on the security system before returning to the T-bird. "All set," he said as he climbed into the passenger seat.

* HL * HL * HL

Richie stared down at the canoe in disbelief. "Are you sure that's going to hold all three of us?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Besides, you're immortal - drowning is only temporary." Duncan grinned at his student.

"Oh, thanks. That makes me feel *so* much better," Richie replied sarcastically. "We've got to bring you into the twentieth century sometime, Mac."

"It is twentieth century," Duncan contended. "Non-polluting, environment-friendly, noiseless - what more could you ask for?"

"A motor to start with! Think how much faster we could get there."

"Think how much noise we would make. I don't want to attract attention when I'm up here - especially tonight."

After placing their bags and supplies in the canoe, Duncan went to the back of the T-bird and opened the trunk. It took both of them to get Connor's body out, but Duncan carried him down to the canoe on his own. Richie followed his teacher's instructions, and carefully climbed into the front of the craft. A few moments later, they were on their way.

Richie was grateful the moon was out. It gave out more light than he would have expected, but it was still dark. He was a city boy and was really out of his element here. For all he knew, they were going around in circles. He only hoped that Duncan knew where they were going.

"There it is," Duncan finally said.

Richie strained his eyes forward, and could barely make out a rocky shore. It didn't look like anything special, but if Duncan said this was it, then this was it. "Where's the cabin?"

"At the top of the rise - not far." A few more strokes with the paddle, and Richie felt the canoe scrape along the bottom. "Jump out, Richie. We need to pull the canoe the rest of the way up."

Richie obeyed the command, then almost jumped back in the canoe when his feet hit the cold water. He bit back his exclamation, not wishing to seem like a wimp. He grabbed the canoe and pulled with all his strength. Duncan joined him in the water, and they carried the canoe far enough up on the bank to keep it safe.

Duncan lifted the tarp-covered body and dumped it on the ground. "Time for Connor to start doing his own walking. I'm tired of carrying him around." He quickly untied the older Immortal, leaving ropes around his hands and chest. Then he yanked out the knife. "It shouldn't take him long to recover."

Richie grabbed the bags from the canoe and started up the hill. The ground was uneven, so he went slowly, not wanting to do something dumb, like break an ankle - even if it would heal quickly.

Behind him, he heard an angry voice, although he couldn't make out the words. Obviously, Connor was alive again, and still very angry. Richie finally reached the porch of the cabin, and put the bags down. He tried the door, but it was locked. There was still no sign of Duncan, so the young man sat down on the stairs.

A few moments later, he jumped back up again. It was cold, and he really didn't want to sit around waiting for Duncan to show up. He could go back down and get the keys, but he had another idea. A little digging in his bag, and he had a small flashlight and his lockpick. In no time, he had the door open.

Richie swept the room with his flashlight, trying to see what he could. He found a switch next to the door, but nothing happened when he flipped it on. He moved further into the room, where he could make out more details. He spotted a fireplace and headed for it. He knew enough to open the damper first, but there wasn't a gas jet to turn on.

How difficult could starting a fire be? There were matches on the mantle, and logs in a metal bin nearby. He also found some small twigs, and decided to start with that. He placed some of them in the fireplace, lit a match and tried to light the twigs. It took several tries before he got enough of a flame going that he could add a bigger log.

He felt the touch of another Immortal and, a moment later, Duncan and Connor came in the door. The younger Scot dragged the older one over to the couch and pushed him down on it.

"I thought I locked the door the last time I left," Duncan said.

Richie shrugged. "It was cold outside, so I helped myself."

"So I see." Duncan retrieved some matches from the mantle and went around the room, lighting lanterns in various places.

With more light, Richie was able to check out the place. It was bigger than he expected a 'cabin' to be. The main room was bigger than the apartment living room and was filled with heavy furniture covered with lots of stuffed cushions. Through an open doorway, he could see a kitchen, plus there was a hallway that probably led to bedrooms and, hopefully, a bathroom. For all he knew, the place had no running water.

"I'm going to take a quick look around," Duncan said as he opened the front door. "I'll also bring some more wood in. I won't be long." He paused and looked over at the couch. "Will you be all right with him?" he asked softly.

"No problem," Richie replied.

Duncan went outside, closing the door behind him, and Connor wasted no time. "Let me go, Richie, and I'll help you take Duncan's head," he offered. "Think of the power you'll have, the knowledge. You would be a force to contend with. Together, we could rule the world."

"Be quiet," Richie shot back, anger filling him. "I wouldn't trust you for a moment. You'd take my head, too."

"No, I promise I won't. Just let me go. If you're afraid of me, you can stay here on the island. It's holy ground and you'll be safe here."

"Shut up! I'm not going to let you go."

Connor struggled to his feet, then slowly approached Richie. The young Immortal backed up, starting to feel uneasy about being alone with the older Scot, even though his hands and arms were bound. He moved around so the couch was between himself and the other Immortal.

"You haven't had a Quickening yet, have you? You don't know what it's like, Richie - the power, the exhilaration. And when it's someone like Duncan... you couldn't start off any better."

"NO! I don't want Mac's Quickening!"

"What kind of Immortal are you?" Connor sneered. "Taking heads is what we do. Don't let Duncan fool you. He'll wait until you have a few heads, then he'll take yours. It's always so easy to take your students' heads. The fools always trust their teacher."

For a moment, Richie wondered if that was true. Would Duncan eventually take his head? Was that how things worked? The teacher kills the pupil? "No, I don't believe you! Otherwise, you would have taken Duncan's head - he was your student."

"He was my first. I didn't know any better back then. Now, I do. You have to take his head before he takes yours."

"I still don't believe you," Richie said.

Just then, Duncan came in the front door, his arms loaded with wood. He looked at the two standing Immortals. "Problem?"

"Not for me," Richie said.

"Well, it is for me. I have to go to the bathroom, and it's a little hard to do tied up this way."

Duncan moved over to the wood bin and dumped his load of logs. He walked over and stared at his clansman for several long moments before reaching for the knots in the ropes. "Don't try anything," he warned. After untying Connor, he escorted him to the bathroom. Duncan stood in the open doorway, unwilling to trust the older man behind a closed door, while Connor used the facilities. When he was done, Duncan tied him up again, placing his hands in front of him this time.

"Is this really necessary?" Connor asked, while Duncan was wrapping the rope around him. "Okay, I admit I was wrong to try to take your head. I don't know what got into me. We can just forget this whole thing happened. After all, we're clansmen."

"I don't think so," Duncan said, tightening the rope more. "You're not the Connor I know. He wouldn't have attacked Tessa or Richie."

"We could be a great team, Duncan. Together, we would be unbeatable. Think about the heads we could take - the power we could have. Are you going to let one new Immortal and a mortal woman stand in your way?"

"Yes." Duncan grabbed Connor's arm and pulled him back out to the living room. Once again, he pushed him down onto the couch. "Just sit there and be quiet. Or I might just be tempted to haul you off of holy ground and take your head after all."

"You don't have the guts to do that," Connor spat back. "Besides, you'd probably end up just like this. Could you handle that?"

Duncan stared down at his former teacher. He'd thought of the same thing. Would he become evil if he took Connor's head? If Coltec couldn't help, what should he do then? He couldn't just let Connor go. Who knew how many people would be harmed?

"I'll do what I have to do," Duncan replied before turning away. "Richie, why don't you try to get some sleep. We can take turns watching Connor tonight."

"Are you sure, Mac?" Richie asked. "I could stay up with you. We could play chess to pass the time."

Duncan debated with himself for a moment, before turning Richie down. "I'll be fine. There's no reason for both of us to lose sleep."

The young man looked like he wanted to argue, but he finally headed toward the bedrooms. Duncan took some logs into the bedroom for Richie, then went to the kitchen. With the ease of long practice, he had a fire going in the stove in no time at all. He also put on a pot of coffee to brew. He might need it to stay awake, although he really doubted it.

Returning to the main room, he went around and blew out some of the lanterns he'd lit earlier. There was no sense in wasting the oil since the fireplace put out plenty of light. Connor had stretched out on the sofa. Duncan retrieved a quilt from the hallway closet and draped it over his former teacher, then sat down in a chair near the fireplace.

He could still see Connor from where he was, and his mind once again returned to trying to figure out what to do. Fortunately, Richie seemed to be taking things fairly well. It couldn't have been easy being attacked by someone you trusted. Duncan, at least, had known what to expect when he went inside, thanks to Tessa.

Tessa!

Today could have been a totally different story. If Richie hadn't been there... A cold chill ran down his spine. What if he'd come back and found Tessa raped... or dead... Would he have even known who'd done it? And Connor would have been there for him, just waiting for a chance to take his head. Duncan shuddered.

Was it just a coincidence that Richie had been fired that day? Or was there some higher being who was controlling their lives? Was there something Duncan still had to do before he could go to his final rest? Or maybe it was Tessa who was destined for something greater. For that matter, maybe this had been a test for Richie - to see if he was strong enough to handle whatever lay in his future. All Duncan knew was that he'd seen a lot of things in the last four hundred years that couldn't be explained away as coincidence.

About two hours after Richie had gone to bed, Duncan heard a scream come from the bedroom. He was on his feet in an instant, heading for the room. He found the young Immortal backed up against the wall, holding his sword.

"Take it easy, Richie. It was just a nightmare," Duncan said, trying to keep his tone calm and soothing.

Richie stared blindly at him for several long moments, then slowly lowered the sword. "Oh, man," he moaned as he moved over and collapsed on the bed. "It seemed so real."

Duncan cursed Connor under his breath. Richie had been more affected than he realized. "It was just a nightmare. Why don't you try to get some more sleep?" he suggested, not knowing what else to do.

Richie shook his head. "I think I'll come out and join you for a while."

Duncan lead the way to the kitchen, where he poured both of them a cup of coffee. Richie carried his over to the table in the middle of the room and sat down. He stared down at the cup without saying anything.

The Scot had a feeling that something more was going on than just a nightmare, so he joined his student. "Want to talk about it? I assume your nightmare was about your fight with Connor."

Richie gave a big sigh. He kept his eyes on his coffee cup, and said in a low voice, "The nightmare wasn't about Connor - it was you who almost took my head."

Duncan struggled to find the words he needed. "Have I given you any reason to think I would ever try to take your head?"

Richie shook his head. "Neither did Connor."

"I know... I don't know what to say to you. I can't promise that I won't ever try to take your head - Connor proved that. I would have said he would never have tried to do it, either. But, understand this, as long as I'm in my right mind, I would *never* attack you..." Honesty forced him to add, "Unless you give me enough reason to do it, but I can't see that ever happening."

Richie still hadn't looked up. "Connor said the teacher always kills the pupil," he muttered in a tone so low Duncan almost didn't hear him.

"That's nonsense, Richie! I have never killed any of my pupils!"

The young man finally looked up. "Even if you had, you probably wouldn't admit it - would you?"

Duncan sighed. "I suppose if it was true, I wouldn't admit it. The best I can offer is to call one of my students, as soon as we get back to civilization, so you can see that he is still alive. Unfortunately, I haven't had many students, and most of them are dead - but *not* by my hand."

Richie stared at him for a long time. "No, that won't be necessary. I trust you, Mac. You wouldn't do that. Connor was just trying to turn me against you. I really didn't believe him, but..."

"But a small part of you still had to wonder about it. Thank you for your trust, Richie, but I'll still call Gregor when we get home. I think you'll like him. Now then, how about some chess?"

* HL * HL * HL

Richie stared out the window at the rising sun while he sipped another cup of coffee. Duncan had finally fallen asleep about an hour earlier. Nothing the young Immortal had said had been enough to convince the Scot to go stretch out on one of the beds. Instead, he had just leaned his head back and fallen asleep sitting up. It didn't look very comfortable. The only one who had gotten much sleep had been Connor.

Quietly, he went over and added another log to the fireplace before returning to the window. He could see something moving in the water, and kept his eyes on it, trying to figure out what it was. He finally realized it was a canoe and was headed for the island. He debated waking up Duncan, but decided to wait awhile.

Fifteen minutes later, the man beached the canoe, then stood up and stretched. Finally, he reached into the canoe and took out a sword, which he concealed in his coat. Richie hoped this was Duncan's friend, but he didn't really look like a holy man. He'd expected someone much older and wiser. This guy just looked dangerous.

Richie walked over to Duncan and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Mac, wake up. Someone's here."

Duncan's eyes popped open and he jumped to his feet. Startled, Richie flinched away, then hoped that his teacher hadn't seen his reaction. The brief flash of regret that filled the Scot's eyes and face made it clear that he'd seen it.

"I do trust you, Mac," Richie said in a low tone.

Duncan squeezed his shoulder lightly. "Don't worry about it, Richie."

"Someone's here," he repeated. The words were unnecessary because they both felt the other Immortal at the same time. Even Connor roused himself and sat up.

Duncan went to the door, arriving there just as the visitor knocked. He opened the door and greeted his friend with a smile. Then he brought him over to meet Richie.

"He doesn't look that dangerous," Coltec said with a smile as they shook hands.

"I'm not the one who needs your help," Richie replied, somewhat miffed. He pointed over his shoulder at the couch. "He does."

"Don't be so sure of that," Coltec said before going over to the couch.

"I don't need your help, either," Connor snarled at the Hayoka.

"Ah, I see what you mean, Duncan. He is so filled with hatred and anger, but underneath, I can sense his true self. We should get started immediately."

"Do you think you can help Connor?" Duncan asked, hope filling his voice.

"We shall try. Come with me - we'll get things ready. Richie can keep an eye on this one."

Duncan walked over to Richie. "You okay with that?" he asked, keeping his voice low enough so only the two of them could hear. "We won't be far away."

"I can handle it," Richie replied, although he wasn't so sure.

Duncan clapped him on the shoulder, then went out with Coltec. He followed the Hayoka as he scouted out the property. Finally, when they came to a clearing about two hundred yards from the cabin, Coltec squatted down.

"This will do," he said, as he started clearing the ground. "We'll need a small fire."

Duncan gathered stones to contain the fire and brought them back to the clearing. Coltec was chanting in a language the Scot didn't understand, and scattering some kind of herb around the clearing.

"What did you mean by your comment to Richie?" Duncan asked when Coltec finished his chant. "Do you think he needs help?"

"He has much anger, this young student of yours," Coltec replied. "Haven't you noticed?"

"When he first came to me, yes. But he seems so much better now." Duncan wondered what he'd missed. "Although, he was very angry when Connor tried to take his head, but that's understandable."

"He has forced his anger down, but it is still there. He is like a volcano - all that anger churning away deep inside. One day, he may explode, and it will not be pretty."

Duncan sighed. He really didn't need this, too. How could he ask for Coltec's help for both of his friends? Fortunately, he didn't have to.

"I will try to help him, too," Coltec said. "If he's willing to be helped. But first, let's see what we can do with Connor. I need a metal bowl filled with water, and then you can bring him out."

Duncan fetched the requested item from the kitchen, then went into the living room. He handed the bowl to Richie, and walked over to Connor. "Let's go," he said, grabbing the older man's arm to pull him up.

"I'm not going anywhere," Connor protested, struggling in Duncan's grip.

The younger Scot didn't bother arguing, he just dragged Connor out of the cabin. Fortunately for him, the older Scot stayed on his feet, so it was fairly easy to do.

Richie trailed along behind the two Scots. He handed Coltec the bowl of water he was carrying, then turned to go back inside.

"You can stay if you want to, Richie," Coltec said. "You can sit over there, but you must be very quiet and not interrupt the ceremony."

Richie wasn't sure if he really wanted to stay, but finally decided to. He moved to the indicated spot and sat down on the ground. Duncan joined him a few moments later after he had placed Connor in front of Coltec. The young man watched as the Hayoka stirred something into the bowl of water, then threw a handful of some kind of powder into the small fire. Whatever it was, it immediately started to smoke, and a pungent order drifted over to him.

Fighting the urge to sneeze, Richie continued watching the ceremony. Coltec did some chanting while rinsing his hands in the bowl of water, then he removed a small bag from around his neck and placed it around Connor's. His final step was to place his hands on Connor's face. Out of the corner of the young Immortal's eye, he thought he saw something move, but when he turned to look at it straight on, there wasn't anything there. He also thought he was hearing tom-toms, but none of the Immortals had any.

As the ceremony progressed, he started to wonder what kind of drug Coltec was using. Besides hearing things that weren't there, he could have sworn that he was seeing images of Indians dancing around the clearing. Whenever he tried to focus on a specific image, it just faded away. Duncan appeared to be in some kind of trance, and Richie wondered if he was doing something wrong. He finally stopped trying to look at everything, and just let himself drift along.

* HL * HL * HL

"Richie? Richie, are you all right?"

Richie looked up into the worried face of his teacher. "Did you say something, Mac?"

"I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes," Duncan said. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am." Richie looked around the small clearing. Connor was still sitting in his original spot, but he was no longer tied up, and there was no sign of the Hayoka. How had he missed all of that? "Where's Coltec?"

Duncan shook his head. "What did you do - fall asleep? Jim went off to be by himself. I think he needs to... meditate or something so that the evil won't overwhelm him."

"Did it work?" Richie glanced nervously at Connor.

"I think so. Why don't you go on into the cabin? I'll stay out here with Connor for a while."

"Are you sure? I can stay out here with you."

Duncan smiled. "No sense in all of us being cold. We've already been out here for hours."

Richie glanced at his watch and discovered it was almost noon. He must have fallen asleep since he had no idea he'd been sitting for so long! His stomach chose that moment to growl, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before.

Duncan laughed. "You'd better get something to eat, too."

"Okay, Mac." Richie headed into the cabin, and went straight to the kitchen. He looked through the supplies they'd brought, then decided on a can of beef stew. He searched through the cupboards until he found a pan and the can opener. A few moments later, the stew was ready to be warmed up. He carried the pan over to the stove and looked for a way to turn a burner on, but there wasn't one. He finally realized it was a wood-burning stove.

He examined the stove carefully, and decided the flue was already open. Richie then followed the same procedure from the night before and started a fire. It took him fewer tries this time.

"Practice makes perfect," he gloated to himself. "There's nothing to this wilderness stuff."

Richie then went to the living room and started another fire there after cleaning the old ashes out of the fireplace. Soon, the welcome heat was warming the room. He returned to the kitchen to wait for his lunch to get hot.

* HL * HL * HL

Duncan sat quietly, watching his clansman, waiting for Connor to speak first. Other than a low 'thank you' to Jim Coltec, the older Scot hadn't said anything since the cleansing ceremony had finished.

"You don't have to watch me constantly, anymore," Connor finally spoke, his voice more sad than bitter.

"I know that. I figured you would eventually want to talk about it."

"What is there to talk about? I tried to destroy your life by hurting everyone you love, and then I tried to take your head. I wouldn't blame you for wanting my head, now."

"You weren't yourself," Duncan replied. "I'm not going to hold that against you."

"Tessa and Richie will."

Duncan sighed. "I think Tessa will be able to get past this, but she'll probably never feel comfortable if she's alone with you. As for Richie..." He shook his head. "I don't know. He seems to understand that it wasn't you, but I think it shook him up a lot. I think he's going to find it hard to believe other Immortals won't do the same thing."

"That could be a good thing," Connor commented. "It doesn't pay to trust other Immortals. They may just be waiting for the opportunity to take your head."

"True, but think of how lonely his life would be. I don't know about you, but I have a lot of Immortal friends who I would trust with my life. While we don't see each other very often, it's still nice to know that I have someone to talk to who knows what it's like being immortal. At times, they seem the only constant in my life."

Connor remained silent for a while. "I guess you're right. I don't trust as easily as you do, but I do have a group of Immortal friends who I would miss if they were no longer around." He paused for a moment. "I doubt Richie would ever come to me if something happened to you."

Duncan had come to the same conclusion. "I'll find someone. Maybe Fitzcairn would do it."

Connor made a rude noise. "That popinjay? Now *I'm* insulted if you think he can replace me. There has to be someone better than that."

"How about Kit O'Brady?"

"Only if you want him to learn how to gamble - and lose. What about Alec Hill or Gregor?"

"Alec is practically a newlywed, and Gregor is still seeing Sean Burns. I don't think either of them want a student right now."

"Well, there has to be someone!" Connor insisted. "We'll just have to keep thinking until we come up with a name."

"How about some food first?" Duncan suggested.

Connor glanced in the direction of the cabin. "Go ahead. I'll come in later."

"You're going to have to face him sometime." Duncan rose to his feet and held out a hand to Connor. After what seemed like an eternity, the older Scot grabbed it and stood up.

They found Richie in the kitchen, cleaning up after his lunch. The young man glanced over his shoulder as they came in, then turned back to his dishwashing. Connor and Duncan exchanged looks, and the older Scot stepped forward.

"Richie, I don't know what to say," Connor started.

The young Immortal shrugged, but didn't turn around. "Nothing to say. Mac explained it to me. It wasn't really you."

"But you don't believe that, do you? You think I did this deliberately - that I should have been able to handle the Quickening I took."

Richie spun around. "I trusted you!" he almost shouted, clenching his fists tightly.

"I know," Connor replied, sadness filling his voice. "I *am* sorry about what happened. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Anger seemed to radiate off the young man, but Connor stood his ground. "Damn you!" Richie finally shouted, then he swung out with his right fist, catching the older Scot squarely on the jaw. Connor stumbled back, crashing into the kitchen table before sliding to the floor.

"Richie!" Duncan yelled, moving in to break up the fight. Richie didn't give him a chance. He ran into the living room and out the front door. By the time Duncan reached the open door, there was no sign of the young Immortal. The Scot sighed and returned to the kitchen.

Connor was struggling to his feet, one hand rubbing his jaw. "He's got a pretty good right hook," he said with a wry smile.

"I'm sorry, Connor," Duncan said, moving over to help his clansman.

Connor shook his head as he slid onto a chair. "I deserved worse than that, and he needed to vent some of his anger. I'd rather he come after me with his fists than his sword."

"You're a better fighter than he is. Why would it matter?" Duncan asked.

"I might be now, but who knows what he could be like in a few decades. I really don't want him coming after me some time in the future, intent on revenge. He needs to get over this now, and not let it fester until it consumes him."

Duncan nodded, remembering other Immortals who'd let revenge control their lives. He'd been the same way after Kern had killed Little Deer. Only Coltec had kept him from wasting years doing the same thing. "I'll do everything I can to keep Richie from doing that," he said.

"I know you will. Now then, you mentioned something about food?"

Duncan quickly made them a meal, hoping that Richie would cool off enough to come back by the time they were finished. After three hours, he began to worry about his student. The only thing that kept him from panicking was that both canoes were still on the beach. That meant the young Immortal was probably still on the island. While the mainland wasn't too far away at some points, Duncan didn't think Richie would try swimming in the icy water.

Duncan paced around the living room of the cabin, stopping occasionally to glance out the window. Finally, he announced, "It's going to be dark soon. I'd better go look for Richie."

"What kind of trouble can he get into?" Connor asked. "It's an island and it's holy ground."

"I know, but he's a city kid. I don't know how much experience he has with the wilderness."

"Well, if it will make you feel better, we can go look for him. If we split up, we can cover more ground."

"Maybe you should wait here," Duncan said, trying to be tactful. The last thing Richie would need right now would be for Connor to find him while he was alone.

Connor understood his reasoning immediately, and the pain showed in his eyes. "Maybe you're right."

Duncan grasped his shoulder for a moment, then headed for the door. Before he got there, he felt the touch of another Immortal. "He's back," he said, needlessly, before opening the door. Instead of Richie, it was Coltec, and disappointment flooded through the Scot.

* HL * HL * HL

After hitting Connor, Richie's only thought was to get away. His flight instinct had been well-honed during his teenage years. He ran through the living room and out the front door. Without really thinking about it, he headed up the half-cleared path leading away from the cabin. He had no idea how long he ran, but he didn't stop until he couldn't go any further.

Sinking to the ground, he tried to catch his breath. He could still feel the anger burning deep within him, but the guilt and regret he felt about hitting Connor were bubbling to the top. He'd really blown it this time. Duncan was going to be so mad at him about this.

Logically, he knew he shouldn't blame Connor for what had happened, but his emotions said something else. He'd have to work harder at hiding it from the Scots - assuming they would have anything to do with him after this latest fiasco.

Once he'd calmed down, Richie realized that he'd come out without his coat, and he was starting to feel cold. He might as well go back and face the music. Standing up, he looked around the small clearing he was in. There were three different paths leading from it, and he didn't have a clue as to which one he had come from. He finally picked one, and headed off.

Richie walked for a while, but nothing seemed familiar. He finally turned around and went back the way he'd come, until he arrived at the clearing again. He chose another path and started down it. After walking for about thirty minutes, he halted again. He couldn't decide whether he should keep on going or head back to the clearing. He finally did turn around, figuring there was still the third path to try.

That path came to a dead-end at a small pond. Richie started to turn around, thoroughly discouraged now, when he felt another Immortal. Figuring it was Duncan, Richie continued down the path. He was surprised when he found Coltec instead.

"I'm sorry," Richie said. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You're not disturbing me," Coltec replied. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

Richie could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks. "I got mad and hit Connor, then ran away." He stared down at the ground. "And now I'm lost," he muttered.

"You should have Duncan teach you some wilderness skills," Coltec suggested, with a smile.

"Assuming he wants to teach me anything anymore." Even Richie could hear the bitterness in his tone.

"I don't think Duncan will hold your actions against you." Coltec threw some powder on the small fire in front of him. "Please, join me."

Richie sat down, reluctantly. "I have a question," he started, somewhat timidly. "How come you didn't become like Connor when you took the evil into you? How did you control it when he couldn't?"

"I am Hayoka - it's my job to take in evil. Although, this time was almost too much, even for me. I don't think I took away all that Connor had, but I think I removed enough for him to control what's left."

"Are you sure? How can you know?"

"I know." Coltec smiled at the young Immortal. "Just as I know that Connor is not the only one who needs to deal with his anger."

"I'm not angry," Richie protested.

"Maybe not outwardly, but deep within..." Coltec threw more powder on the fire. The smoke seemed to head directly for the young man. "You are angry with the 'system'; with how you were raised."

"Who wouldn't be? Most of the families who took me in didn't care about me. I was just a paycheck to them. And my social workers never seemed to care whether I was happy or being abused, or whatever."

"You are right. You're anger is justified. Those are not the only people you are angry with - what about your friends?"

"Which ones? The ones who left me with no way to pay my hotel bill, and in the middle of nowhere? Or maybe you're talking about the ones who ran away when I crashed my car. They were more worried about being caught by the cops than getting me medical help."

"What good does your anger do?" Coltec asked. "Will it change anything?"

Richie had never thought of it that way. "I guess not."

"In fact, isn't your anger causing you problems? Do you think people will want to be friends with someone who is always angry?"

Richie sighed. "I guess not, but what do I do about it? Sometimes, I'm so mad... I just can't seem to control it."

"I can help you with that. I can take away your anger - if you're willing."

The thought scared Richie, but he didn't like himself when he was angry, either. He nodded, unable to speak through his suddenly-dry mouth.

Coltec reached his hands out and touched Richie's face.

* HL * HL * HL

Duncan stared in dismay as Coltec came into the cabin. "Richie's missing," he blurted out. "Did you see him?"

"Yes, he's down by the water. I think you should go talk to him."

Duncan grabbed his coat, as well as one for Richie, and hurried toward the shore. The young Immortal was sitting on a boulder, arms wrapped around himself, staring out at the water. He looked over his shoulder when he felt the other Immortal coming.

The Scot felt a deep pang at the look on the young man's face. Richie looked like his whole world had come to an end. Deciding to treat the physical first, he handed over the coat.

"Thanks, Mac," Richie said as he put it on.

"How are you doing?" Duncan asked awkwardly, not knowing where to start. He sat down next to his student.

"I don't know... I feel so... lost." Richie shuddered. "Like I have nothing to hold onto anymore."

"You can hold onto me," Duncan offered, carefully placing one arm around his student's shoulders. "I won't let you be lost."

Richie shuddered again, then turned into Duncan's shoulder, and started to cry. The Scot wrapped his other arm around the young man, and held on tightly. Eventually, Richie calmed down, but he didn't try to move away from Duncan's hold.

"I'm sorry," Richie said in a low voice.

"For what?"

"Everything. For being such a pain when I started training with you. For not protecting Tessa better. For hitting Connor. For crying."

Duncan placed one finger under Richie's chin and lifted it so he could look into the young man's eyes. "There's nothing to apologize for. I understand why you were angry at first. I think you did a good job of protecting Tessa - it could have been so much worse. I understand why you hit Connor, and so does he. And you should never apologize for crying. Only those who can't feel don't cry. And you definitely feel - otherwise you wouldn't be apologizing."

"Coltec made me realize what my anger was doing to me. I feel like he's looked deep inside me, and stripped me naked."

Duncan nodded. "He did the same thing to me. It's a bit disconcerting, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I think it was good for me." Richie yawned.

"I think you need to get some sleep," Duncan suggested. "We can talk some more tomorrow, if you want." He stood up, then helped Richie to his feet.

The young man wavered for a moment, and the Scot placed an arm around his waist. By the time they got to the cabin, Richie was struggling to keep his eyes open. Duncan led him into the first bedroom, and had him sit on the bed. Someone had already started a fire in the room, and it was pleasantly warm.

Duncan removed his student's shoes before pushing Richie backwards. The young man didn't resist as Duncan lifted his legs, and swung them up onto the bed.

"Sleep well, Richie," Duncan said as he pulled the covers up and tucked them around his student's shoulders. He wasn't sure if the young man had even heard the words, but he hoped that no nightmares would disturb Richie's slumber.

* HL * HL * HL

Duncan joined Connor and Coltec in the living room. He sat down on the couch and rubbed his hands over his face.

"How's he doing?" Connor asked.

"I think he's going to be all right. He just needs some time to heal."

"We all do," Coltec said. "This has been tough on every one of us."

Duncan nodded. "And Tessa, too. That's three that I owe you, Jim. How can I ever repay you?"

"There is nothing to repay. However, Connor and I have been talking. We would like to stay here on the island for a while. There's something about holy ground that is soothing to the soul."

"The place is yours for as long as you need it." Duncan paused for a moment. "Do you think Richie needs to stay here, too?"

"No, I think he will be better off with you."

"All right." Duncan leaned his head back against the couch, and closed his eyes for a moment. He should probably get up and go make something for dinner, but he couldn't seem to find the energy.

"Did you sleep at all last night, Duncan?" Connor asked.

"Not much."

"Then why don't you go to bed? There's still an empty bedroom."

"I was going to let Jim have that one. I was planning on sleeping out here by the fire."

"Nonsense," Coltec replied. "Connor and I can fend for ourselves. Go to bed, Duncan, before you fall asleep where you sit."

"Richie might have nightmares..."

"If he does, we'll take care of him," Coltec said. "And we know where to find you if we need you."

"Stop being such a mother hen," Connor added. "Go to bed."

Duncan smiled, and stood up. It was good to have his clansman back.

* HL * HL * HL

The smell of coffee lured Duncan from his slumber. He stretched, then glanced at his watch. He couldn't believe the time - he'd slept for almost twelve hours! The Scot made a quick trip to the bathroom, before heading for the kitchen.

"Ah, one of the dead has arisen," Connor greeted him.

"Good morning to you, too," Duncan replied. He poured himself a cup of coffee and joined Connor at the table. "Where's Jim?"

"Out communing with nature. Want some breakfast?"

"Sounds great."

"Well, there's the stove, and the food is in the cupboard," Connor replied with a grin.

"Gee, thanks. You're a big help." Duncan stood back up and searched through the cabinets. He finally decided on instant oatmeal, and placed some water on the stove to heat.

"Good morning," Richie greeted them from the doorway.

"Morning, Rich," Duncan replied, and Connor echoed him. "I'm making oatmeal. You want some?"

"Sure." Richie moved around his teacher and fetched a mug from the cupboard before helping himself to some coffee.

"How did you sleep?" Duncan asked.

"Great. No nightmares at all." He sat down across the table from Connor, but didn't look at the Scot. "I'm sorry I hit you yesterday."

"Nothing to be sorry about," Connor replied. "I'd still like us to be friends, Richie, but if you don't feel comfortable with that, I'll understand." He held out one hand over the table.

Duncan almost held his breath while Richie decided what to do. It came out in a rush when the young Immortal clasped Connor's hand with one of his own and said, "I'd like that, too."

The younger Scot turned back to the stove, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. Things were looking good.

"What exactly happened, anyway, Connor?" Richie asked.

Connor sighed. "I slept in, then headed out for a late breakfast. I picked the wrong restaurant. Another Immortal, Harry Kant, was already there, harassing the waitress. When I walked in, he pulled a gun and told me to butt out. Being such a nice guy, I refused. We fought, I won, but it was the strangest Quickening I've ever taken. I was overwhelmed by his feelings of hatred, anger, and desire for destruction. Deep inside, I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn't control it."

"How do we keep this from happening again?" Richie asked. "And I don't just mean to you, Connor. What if it happens to Mac? Or to me?"

Duncan placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of Richie. "In four hundred years, this is the first time I've seen a Dark Quickening. Both Connor and I have taken our share of heads. Hopefully, we'll never see another one." He sat down, and started eating.

"That's not a lot of comfort," Richie said.

"Well, unless we don't take any more Quickenings, there's no guarantee," Connor said. "And I can't stand by and watch other Immortals wreak havoc. It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Me, too," Duncan chimed in. "It's what we are, Richie. The only suggestion I can offer you is if one of your Immortal friends starts acting like Connor did, then it's time to get away."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good, now eat your breakfast before it gets cold. Once we're done, we can get ready to go home."

"Really?" A smile crossed Richie's face. "Good. I can't wait to get back to civilization again."

"And I think we'll have to spend some more time out here," Duncan said.

Richie muttered something.

"What was that?" Duncan asked. "I didn't hear you."

"I said I can't wait."

"That's what I thought you said," Duncan said, hiding his smile. The first comment hadn't sounded anything like that, at all.

* HL * HL * HL

One hour later, Richie, Duncan and Connor emerged from the cabin. The two younger Immortals had their bags with them.

"Duncan... you'll tell Tessa how sorry I am?" Connor asked, sadness filling his voice.

"I will. Call me before you go back to New York."

"I will." Connor looked around for a moment. "Duncan, why don't you go ahead? I have something to say to Richie."

Duncan looked at both Immortals. Connor's face was grim, and Richie looked slightly nervous. He almost refused, but the young man nodded at him. "Go ahead, Mac. I won't be long."

The younger Scot headed down the hill, with one last backward glance.

Connor wasted no time. "Richie, I want to thank you. If it hadn't been for you, I might have hurt Tessa very badly. Duncan would never have forgiven me if I had succeeded with my original plan, and I don't think I could have lived with myself, either."

"You're welcome, Connor," Richie said, not knowing what else to say.

"You knew you couldn't beat me, but you still tried. It took great courage to do that. Learn well, young Richie. You *will* be one of the good ones, and I am honored to call you my friend."

A sense of belonging flooded through the young man. "Thank you, Connor. I *will* do my best."

Connor clasped Richie on the shoulder briefly. "We'd better go, before Duncan gets too worried."

They headed down the hill, and found Duncan waiting impatiently by the canoe. The younger Scot relaxed when he saw the two of them.

"You ready to go?" Duncan asked.

"Yeah. Can I steer?" Richie grinned at his teacher.

Duncan aimed a playful swat at his student. "No, you can't 'steer'. Not only don't you know how to do it, you don't know where we're going."

"How can I learn how to do something if you never give me the chance to try it?"

Duncan looked to Connor for help, but the older Immortal held up his hands in defeat. "He's got a good argument."

"Thanks a lot. Oh, all right, Richie, you can 'steer', although who knows where we'll end up." Duncan turned to his clansman and nodded. "Connor."

Connor nodded back. "Duncan. Richie."

Richie wasn't sure what was going on, but he copied his teacher and nodded. "Connor."

Duncan turned to the canoe, and Richie. "Let's go." Without another word, they set out.

Richie waited until they were well on their way before asking, "You don't say good-bye?"

"We never do." Duncan didn't say anymore, and Richie let it drop.

* HL * HL * HL

Despite Duncan's fears, they managed to get back to where they left the T-bird without a problem. He waited until they were almost back to the antique store before trying to call Tessa. She was still at her friend's house, but promised to meet them at home.

She managed to beat them there, and was waiting for them in the living room. "Welcome home," she said, running into Duncan's arms.

He held her tightly for a moment before pulling back to look at her. Her cheek was still bruised, but there was no fear in her eyes. "I love you," he said.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I know." Tessa pulled away and went over to give Richie a hug, too. "Welcome home, Richie."

"Thanks, Tessa. It's good to be back home. You won't believe the conditions I've been forced to live in for the past two days! It was positively uncivilized!"

Tessa laughed. "I've seen the island. I don't know what you're complaining about. At least it has indoor plumbing."

"Yeah, but it didn't even have a microwave! Or a television! How's a guy supposed to live like that?"

Duncan aimed another swat at Richie's head. "I managed for four hundred years without either of those items. Two days didn't hurt you."

"I don't know," Richie said. "I think I've gone into withdrawal. Maybe I'd better find something to cook in the microwave." He headed for the kitchen and started searching through the cupboards.

Duncan watched him for a moment, pleased at the changes that were already apparent in the young man. Maybe some good would come out of this whole mess. He felt Tessa slide an arm around his waist, and looked down at her.

"Maybe we should go unpack your bag," she suggested with a smile.

"That sounds like a good idea," he replied. He looked around once more, content that his family was safe, and followed Tessa down the hall.

While it would take time, their healing had begun.

To be continued...


End file.
